Amazing Grace
by Indigo Red
Summary: It's the summer of 1898, and Red - a sixteen year old girl - is as independent as ever. Will she soon find out what it means to love? And by who? Read to find out, and this is my second story, thank you.


**Well hello there. This is my second story, and this time it's going to be all about my favorite story of all time – The Newsies. **

** Disclaimer – I do not own the Newsies in any way possible, cause if I did I would be a rich man. (or woman, whatever) – Indigo Red**

October 28, 1894

_I couldn't believe it. My parents and me were moving to New York. I've heard of it before – mama said it was a big city, full of dreams. And when we got there, we would be filled with happiness. My name is Jasmine – I'm only a couple years old, mama said that I would be turning ten this year. I don't really want to spend my tenth birthday in a new city. I heard New York was a great, dazzling place – but then again I had moments when I thought twice about it. _

_ I didn't really care for it, actually. It was probably going to be like all the other places we lived – me with no friends, my parents with a low-paying job and crime going on all day. You see, I'm only nine years old – pretty young, don't you say? You would think that I'm like all those little kids who have many friends, who make them smile and laugh and stuff like that. The truth is, is that I'm already grown up – I know what happens on those streets at night – I can tell if an adult is lying to me. I've never really had any friends, I've always kept to myself – but it seems that I'm fine with that. I'm independent I guess – I really can't tell, I suppose. _

_ Well, mama's calling me. I'll talk to you later. _

_Jasmine_

The Beginning of Fall, 1898

As I strolled lazily down Greenwich Street, I noted what day it was. It was July 1st, one day before the day that corrupted me, made me even quieter and more shy than I already am. Tomorrow is the fourth anniversary – if you even _want to call it that_ – of my parent's death. I'm already prepared to mourn – for I have been for at least five years now. It all happened in one night, too. I'm asleep in my bed, dreaming about god knows what, and the next thing I know I wake up to see the roof on fire, and both of my parents gone. I assumed that they were dead, of course – nobody could have gotten out of there _alive._ I had burns that stayed for months, and now I have a nice collection of scars.

You might think, "Isn't she lonely without a family," or, "She can't possibly fend for herself, especially in the streets of a giant city."

The truth, is that I do get bored from time to time – of course, really. But, the thing is, is that I occupy myself with the only belongings I have – a deck of cards, some books, a lighter, and throwing knives – all kept in a little bag. The card deck has really proven me well – I can play poker, blackjack, Texas Hold 'Em, and Omaha. I've got luck on my side, really. The books helped me teach myself to read and write. The lighter is for warmth – only when I really need it though, one winter I had almost froze to death and that lighter got me through the night. The throwing knives – well, are both mainly for protection and to improve my aim – which is one of the best i've ever seen, to be honest.

So, back to the present, I am currently walking down Greenwich Street, with no exact destination whatsoever.

I look around myself – little kids with there mothers, begging them to buy them a piece of candy, or to give them any attention at all. I almost laughed. They look so foolish, being held down by one another.

_Be thankful that you're not like that, _I thought.

I am thankful that I don't have a family that's weighing me down – I mean, who needs that anyway? I am perfectly fine alone, and that means I'm independent – _that I don't take nothing from nobody. _

My thoughts were soon interrupted by somebody – hopefully someone good – knocking me straight onto my back. I glanced up, eyes wide with suprise and fear.

A boy, presumably about my age, stood above me with a small look of shock onto his face. I noticed, that he had a stack of newspapers on his shoulder. He must be a newsie. My cheeks suddenly turned red, for I had interrupted this boy's work. I pulled myself up and started to walk away, when suddenly – the boy gently pulled me by my wrist to face him. My eyes stayed wide, and I started to feel light-headed. I waited for what he needed to say.

"I'se sorry miss, I didn't mean ta knock you'se over, or anythin'. I jus' didn' see you'se there, an' I'se wanted to say I'se sorry," he said softly. I looked at him – his brown eyes and black hair, long enough to be seen from under his cap. I nodded my head, accepting his apology. I didn't really want to talk, so I didn't. The look on his face looked innocent – like he's never seen, touched, or heard anything wrong in any way. _It was kind of cute,_ I thought.

"That's okay, I'se forgiv' you'se," I chocked out. His face spread into a sweet smile and he asked me if I wanted to go to the resteraunt called "Tibby's".

That's how I met Dominic, the one who protects me and loves me with all his heart. The one who made me realize that it's alright to be with people who honestly care about you.


End file.
